Hey, BatterBatter, Swing
by Hannahble
Summary: "Hey, Batter-batter, swing."..."Swung, and scored; home run."..."A fantastically played game." Rated M for graphic lemon; oneshot. Please r&r!


_~Hey Batter-Batter, Swing~_

Number 8 is on the plate, and the whole crowd holds its breath, including myself. It's the 9th inning, 2 strikes, 2 balls, 2 outs. Technically, the batter has two shots but considering all the bases are full and the score is tied, the other team doesn't want to make him walk. For anyone who doesn't watch or understand baseball, Number 8 walking would mean them winning the game. So, the pitcher from Minnesota has to send him a strike and hope to God he doesn't hit the ball.

The bat taps the dusty, painted ground twice before swinging slowly (or at least, slowly for a batter) to his shoulder, hitting it painlessly. His legs are bent, back only slightly curved forward; his body must be at an angle of 45 degrees or so. The perfect stance; or it is as far as I can tell. But you can trust me, I've seen a _lot _games.

The pitcher is ready to give 'em what he's got. I can almost see #8's smirk from my place in the shadows; most people would kill to see the smirk but in all honestly, it's not all that it's cracked up to be. It's more; absolutely sexy, but petrifying if you're going against him because that infernal _smirk _makes you realize… You aren't going to win. You can't win against him. Ever. Trust me, I would know.

Finally, the moment of truth; the pitchers arm swings back and throttles forward, sending the ball straight for the mitt behind #8. However, it never reaches the leather. There's only a little rumble throughout the crowd as the ball soars through the air, but noise **erupts **when the star batter of the team hits the ball with a ricocheting _crack. _The redhead only watches it for a moment, his alert eyes predicting the landing of the ball, but then he's gone, off the plate and running for first, letting the player on third base reach Home. But that's not the end of it; the ball is going, going, _gone. _If possible, the crowd is louder as #8 jogs around all the bases almost casually, arms raised in slight pride; they'd be higher if he weren't so tired from previous swings and sprints. The score between the two teams are no longer tied; the members of the other team walk off dejectedly, frustrated. Inwardly, I send them my sympathy; they played a good game and held out longer against the NC Golden Eagles longer than most.

But then my attention is diverted as I'm signaled to run a lap around the field to rejoice the astonishing victory. To be honest, running this lap is a real pain, but being the mascot… it can't be helped. Despite the stifling heat I have to endure from inside the heavy costume, I stumble across the dusty ground. The crowd cheers again, the people standing up in their seats to produce our traditional waves as I pass. The loud speakers and huge T.V. screen gives the instant replay and a little cartoon, ending with a booming, "Ladies and Gentleman, the NC Golden Eagles!"

Finally, after that, the crowd leaves the stands, the chatter a low rumble with the occasional catcall. I finish my lap and disappear into the dark corridor I know the team went through, thankful that for once the team isn't signing autographs tonight; it's too early in the season for that yet, but I know it will come to that in future games. Despite the fact that I should be happy for the teams' success, I hate waiting for them to be done, knowing they're flirting with every fangirl. This especially applies to number 8, but I'll never tell him that.

Once I rest against the wall of the cavern, I struggle to get the head of my costume off, grumbling to myself as it stubbornly refuses to be lifted. _I really need to get the manager to buy me a new one already, _I think once I finally get it off, noticing rips in several seams throughout the fake feathers of the eagle's head.

Taking another minute or so to rest, I look out of the corridor and into the stands, silently mourning for the cleaners. Those workers are labored way too hard. As if they didn't have enough to do already, what with climbing the stairs up and down to sell the food bombs, they have to clean up the mess they didn't even make to earn a paycheck that probably isn't worthy of their effort. All the thrown peanut shells, sticky cotton candy, broken beer bottles, Styrofoam cups from the snow cones, hardening nacho cheese, carelessly placed wads of dripping gum; they have to clean it all. I shake my head, silently grateful that my job definitely makes up for itself in several ways.

Instantly after that thought, I blush. _Keep your head straight, Roxas, just walk away. _Turning toward the darkness, I walk forward, suddenly aware of the sweat dripping from my brow as the air rustles by. I probably scowl, dreading my future of #8 teasing me for my sweating and flushed face. But I suppose the teasing is inevitable; he's the one who got me this job in the first place. He met me after a short gig being the mascot of the Houston Astros and practically stalked me. But eventually we became closer (after I stopped being stubborn) and when he learned I was job hunting he got the 'brilliant idea' that I should be his team's permanent mascot. Being the star batter, the manager agreed but only if he put more effort into the games. Needless to say, he agreed. The other team members thought it was a little weird at first when I came along, wondering what possessed the sarcastic, sexy #8 to let a 'random kid' into their bus, but when they started winning every single game I mascot for them, they stopped asking questions. I have become their good-luck charm, much to my amusement.

A light seeps into the hall, leaking from the partially open door up ahead. From the smell, I can tell it's the shower room. Despite the raucous laughs and taunts induced by victory, I don't go in, listening beguiled at the team member's banters as I walk by. However I don't hear that certain sultry voice; so he must be in the showers already. I guess he got first dibs since he won the game. Suddenly feeling rushed as I realize how little time I have until the redhead comes looking for me, I walk faster, looking for the room I went into earlier today to change. Luckily, I find it only a minute or so later, opening and closing the door quickly. I grope blindly for a light switch or string to pull, hitting several boxes and other things that obstruct my way. When I finally manage to find the string-pull and turn on the lights, I think I've bruised myself in several places but I merely scowl and then ignore it, eyes scouring the room to look for my bag of clothes.

I let out a sigh of relief when I spot it, proceeding to strip off the eagle costume. I shiver when the air meets my damp skin, once again reminding me of how hot it really is inside the stadium, especially when you're in a thick suit. Which is exactly the reason I wear nothing but my boxers under it; #8 would have a field day if he knew. By this time, I'm so deep in thought about nothing important that I go into auto-pilot, folding the suit neatly before diving into the Wal-Mart bag with a shirt and pair of cargo pants inside. Wishing I could take a shower before soiling these clean clothes, I slip the pants on anyway, yawning as I do so.

I really wish I heard the door opening and closing, but as usual I don't notice the soft clicks before its too late; a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and tug, forcing me to stumble backward into number 8's firm, wide chest.

"A-axel, what are you doing?" I ask him, already feeling a blush coming on. Damn, why does he have to be so automatically seductive?

"I missed you," he tells me simply, the arms tightening, thus trapping me. Scowling, I twist my neck around to look up at him, instantly meeting the electric green eyes belonging to the best batter in the nation; it's in these weak moments that I'm amazed at how brilliant Axel is and at how he picked _me _to shower with affection. I'll never understand why; I'm just average, with a sarcastic sense of humor and a defensive personality, unable to just let anyone do what they please if it's involving me. He, however, is just astounding; kind to everyone with only a hint of deviousness, but he never hurts anyone. He'll be the first to join your side if it's right and will come to your rescue if you simply call. Jealousy is only a hint of what I feel for him; but thinking about it makes me flush, so I usually avoid the subject unless I'm alone. I am a _normal_ guy; I **don't like** admitting my emotions!

"Idiot… It's only been a couple hours," I inform him, attempting to prove it by reaching into my pocket to take out my phone. Unfortunately, Axel doesn't let my arms move from their places, pinned to my side.

"That's too _loooooong_," he replies childishly, ending with a pathetic sigh. He dips his head to the crevice between my shoulder and neck, his nose lightly grazing the rise next to my collar bone. His warm breath hovers over my slick skin, causing it to tingle pleasantly until it sends a shiver down my spine, going unmissed by my captor. Immediately, he chuckles, moving his lips to cover the spot where his breath was, the soft flesh pressing up against me. It takes all my strength to suppress my instinctual reactions, but in result I become still as a rock. But that doesn't stop Axel, considering he must be used to my way of coping with him by now, and his kisses move up my neck, turning open mouthed on the way back down. When he reaches one of my more sensitive spots, he bites down hard. Unable to hold back this time, a moan releases itself from my mouth brokenly, a tremor of pleasure going straight from my shoulder to my groin.

"A-axel, n-not now, I'm gross and sweaty. I need a shower and I-"

"Shh," the redhead replies, ignoring my pleas, "Come on, I just won the game. You should congratulate me, Roxy."

I glare up at him, annoyed at his cocky tone. "It's a team effort, Axel."

"But, I made five of those home runs," he argues, nuzzling my array of blonde locks affectionately.

"And?" I retort stubbornly, more desperate to win than anything else. I don't want to admit he's turning me on.

"I made them for you," Axel answers, voice soft and husky. Instantly, I freeze, my blue eyes wide as my heart melts like butter in a microwave and skips a few beats before it restarts frantically, beating hard and fast. Somehow, he seems to know I can't speak, for he continues his little kisses, traveling up again, but his arms release me ever-so-slightly, hands starting to wander across my chest or down by the rise of my hip bone, massaging the skin there.

As much as I hate to admit it, Axel's words took whatever objections I had to him and threw them out a window. My body does what it pleases without my consent, leaning into the redhead's touches. Finally, I tilt my head up, planting a soft kiss on his jaw before I whisper, "Congrats on winning the game."

Suddenly, Axel whirls me around, his wild eyes meeting mine for the barest of moments before his lips attack my own. I give in to the kiss immediately, letting his talented tongue wrap around mine until I slip mine into his mouth, drowning into his unique taste that I've unfortunately become addicted to. I press myself closer to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulder automatically, letting one hand rest his face as if pulling him toward me further while the other entangles into his spiky red locks enthusiastically. A small noise makes itself known in Axel's throat and I inwardly applaud myself, wondering what I did to cause it.

Before I know it, my back is slammed against the wall, resulting in a gasp but Axel smothers it, our lips locking and unlocking furiously. The redhead's hips roll against me lightly, unleashing a moan from my mouth, though the sound is muffled. I can barely wonder when and how Axel got so hard already before all coherency is lost as he continues to grind against me while his hand rubs the pink, sensitive nubs on my chest. Another small groan tries to emit itself into the air.

Suddenly realizing that I am shirtless and he is not, the hand on my lover's face drops down to the bottom hem of his shirt. Unable to resist the fingers' urges to explore, they slip across the chest under the cloth, letting me feel the softness of his skin. The digits massage the older's abs and work their way up, relishing any skin it can find as it pushes his shirt. This earns me another guttural growl but he complies to my unsaid demand, letting me tug his shirt off of him and carelessly throw it aside. When we make skin on skin contact, both of us groan again, Axel instinctively thrusting to my hips again.

"A-axel, hurry up!" I plea, trying to sound demanding. At best I make 'desperate' but I'm too focused on him to really notice. The redhead listens despite his chance to tease my needy tone, skilled fingers unbuttoning and unzipping my pants quickly. With a new area to access, the long fingers dip under the cloth of my pants and the damp cotton of my boxers; I shiver at the light touch, but outright gasp when his fingers graze the tip of my arousal. Axel, being the impatient person he is, instantaneously goes the next step, gripping my aching erection firmly before pumping almost painfully slow.

"Ug-nnnh… Fuck," I groan, suddenly feeling weak in the knees, "A-axel- uhnnn- f-faster." His warm hand around me feels deliriously good, but it feels even better when he complies with a chuckle, teasing me by alternatively pumping fast or slower, pushing back my hips with his other hand when I instinctively thrust forward to meet his strokes. "Axel…"

He growls, replying verbally, "I could get used to my name being said like that…" Although I get the feeling I could come up with a legible comeback if I weren't inwardly scrambled with pleasure, I don't reply, deciding to make him quiet with my lips. We meet in a sloppy, passionate kiss, it only breaking when Axel suddenly pumps me harder and faster. I groan rather vociferously, breaking our lip lock to let my forehead collide with his shoulder. Only seconds after I rest on his shoulder, his hand leaves my protesting hips to pull my head back up erotically with my hair. But they don't stay there, leaving my hair to put a finger to my lips as he mutters, "If you're too loud, we'll be caught."

"It's your fault…" I manage to whisper in reply, nonetheless desperately swallowing moans down back into my throat before they spill out. Then, suddenly, I realize that there's an easier way to solve this problem; make him moan instead of me. Smirking past the pleasure, I push his hands away from my erection, immediately dropping to my knees afterward. Before he figures out what's going through my mind, I pivot his hips to the wall and whirl around with him, almost ferociously slamming his hips into the wall. My hands make quick work of the button and zipper on his pants, wasting no time to slide the fabric and the garments under it to the ground.

"Th-this is new…" he comments, his voice a low rumble. Smirking slightly, I grip his cock to steady it, glancing up at his smoldering, lusty eyes before squeezing him ever so slightly. The eyes above widen slightly and I can see his throat bob as he chokes back a groan. Feeling rather confident and devious, I plow on, letting my tongue peek out of my mouth to lick the head of Axel's erection. He gasps, his head snapping against the wall; I idly wonder if it hurt. But I let the thought pass, turning my attention back to my tongue and the pulsing in my hand. I let my tongue travel down lightly, but place more pressure down onto the organ on the way back up, ending with an open-mouthed kiss at the head.

"R-Roxas…" he groans lowly, my name traveling straight from my ears to my crotch. Eyelids lidded as I gaze downward, I envelope him slowly, starting at the top and sliding down on him slowly, forcing myself to adjust to his size. I broken moan slips past his lips as he pants, hands wrapping themselves through my golden locks and tugging. In response, I suckle lightly around him once I get down as far as I can go. Because I haven't done this before, I don't trust myself to deep-throat my beautiful redhead, so I compensate the only way I know how. I pump the area I can't reach and match my bobbing head to the ministrations, causing Axel to gasp. "Fuck, Roxy…"

"Hmmmm…" I tell him, causing the vibrations to trail across him and he brokenly moans again; I close my mouth just a little more, letting my teeth lightly graze across him. A few more bobs of my mouth and suddenly, the hands in my hair yank me back. His dick leaves my mouth with a small 'pop' and he continues to pull me up, crashing our lips together again when I'm fully standing. His legs kick away the clothes puddled at his feet and then before I know it, my back is slammed against the cold wall, causing an audible shiver down my spine.

I moan when his warm, glowing skin presses fully against mine, instinctively lifting one leg to wrap around Axel's torso. When Axel is prepared to support me with the wall, I let my other leg wind its way around him too. As one arm keeps me lifted, the other trails down my form, stopping lightly at my ass. I give him a beseeching look, trying to tell him without words to just do it already. As if he can read my mind, he shakes his head, lifting his hand to my mouth. When I give him a questioning look, he says, "Suck," in the sultriest way possible. Compliantly I let three of his long fingers invade my mouth and I coat them with saliva, sucking slightly. He watches me closely and I wonder dazedly why he's so attentive to me. That's when Axel suddenly takes his wet fingers back, wasting no time to place them back at my ass, quickly finding my entrance. When I give him a slight nod in assent, he inserts one slowly. I squirm in discomfort but I do my best to relax, as I've been told to countless times by him before. Soon after he adds another finger and begins to impel then in and out; I wince, close my eyes to contain the slight pain, and turn my head to the side, unintentionally exposing my neck to Axel's lips. Trying to comfort me as he adds the third finger and scissors them inside to stretch the passage there, he nips at my neck to create some kind of distraction. It works well enough, the sensations his mouth causes traveling up and down my spine pleasantly.

Then suddenly, his fingers graze across something that sends my whole body into a single moment of bliss. "Ahh!" I cry out, arching my back to the point where my chest touches his. He chuckles, brushing that spot over and over again as he prepares me. I desperately try to quiet myself, bringing one arm that was around Axel's shoulders to my mouth, covering it with my hand. Usually, whenever I do this Axel finds a way to push the hand away, but this time I _have_ to be a little quieter and Axel couldn't move my hand this time either because both his hands are otherwise occupied.

When the redhead deems me ready enough, his removes his fingers, earning a disappointed whine from my clumsy. He kisses my noise to reassure me, positioning himself at the rim of my anal cavity; I notice myself tensing in anticipation but I fight it, knowing that being tense will only cause future pain. His eyes send me a fleeting inquiring look and in response I let myself kiss him eagerly, my tongue licking his bottom lip. The passion he reciprocates leaves me dizzy from all the emotions and sensations but I'm grounded when Axel slowly descends my hips onto him, his erection slipping painfully inside me. He groans more the further he gets inside, his voice breaking midway. When he gets to the hilt he still tries to comfort me and distract me from the pain he knows I'm enduring, kissing around my face and muttering my name softly in between the soft presses of his lips. As my heart melts familiarly, I force myself to relax and roll my hips when I'm steady, causing Axel to gasp. Unable to control his primal urges, he starts rocking me back and forth, up and down, thrust into me at a slow, soft pace. I appreciate his effort to keep me unharmed, but a feeling of need overcomes me; he needs to go faster, harder, _deeper. _

"A-axel, hn- more," I request breathlessly. Immediately he complies, sheathing himself completely inside forcefully. Slowly, the pain I felt falls away as he continues his pace and I respond to him more, adjusting myself so he can attain easier access. However, as soon as I do, his thrust jams into something that makes me see stars; ecstasy jolts all throughout my body, my skin breaking out into a sheen of sweat as everything feels white with clarity even as my eyes roll back and my eyelids close.

"Uhhn… Axel," I moan, gripping his shoulders tightly. All thoughts of being quiet are forgotten by both of us as he continues to impale my hips down onto him, aiming for my prostrate and hitting it every time. Pleasure begins pooling into my stomach with each jolt of pure bliss, swirling and winding around tighter and tighter as we work together. I roll my hips to make him slide against my inner walls more and Axel grinds harder, faster, groaning as we get closer to release.

"A-Axel, fuck- uhhnn… harder," I manage to garble out somewhat coherently, crying out nonsense when he does what I ask.

"Ro-Roxas…shit, so tight…" he growls into my ear. His voice is low, sultry, and _sexy,_ the echo of his words going straight to my cock as his free hand suddenly begins to tease me again, pinching and rubbing at my nipples until I've cried out, tears threatening to fall down my cheeks from too much intensity. "Ah! A-Axel! Uuuuggnnn…." He trails his hand down until it meets my weeping cock, wiping my precum from the tip before gripping my length and pumping in time with our thrusting, the precum creating delicious friction to the point I almost lose it, falling over the edge then and there. I manage to hold out for just a little longer though, forewarning my lover after a harsh cry, "A-axel, I-I think I'm-"

"Cum for me, Roxy," he growls possessively into my ear; that's when my holding back is thrown to the wind and proven useless. My body reaches the apex of pleasure, throwing me into ecstasy as I cry out Axel's name like a mantra along with other eligible stutters. My head falls back as the rest of my body twitches erratically, skin sweating from the stress. With another growl of my name, Axel reaches his orgasm as well, riding it out as he fills me with his seed, joining me in the void of white as ribbons of my orgasm plaster out chests and his hand.

The ride back down is simply amazing and slow, falling like a feather back to reality. When I'm able to feel myself again, my head is resting on Axel's shoulder as I take labored breaths. Axel slowly collapses to his knees and I remain in place, straddling his lap, only lifting up tiredly to let him slip himself out of me. As Axel comes back he massages my scalp idly, playing with my crazy, damp hair. My hands copy him in a way, massaging his lower neck and the back of his shoulders, tending the wounds I created with my finger nails while I was too far gone to notice the pain I was inflicting. I kiss the crook of his neck as a way of apology, but Axel just wraps his arms all around me, pulling my sweaty form closer to his in a heartbreakingly loving embrace. This combined with the overwhelming blithe afterglow, resulting that I couldn't help but sigh happily, muttering genuinely, "Love you…" For once I'm too wrapped up into the brilliant redhead before me to blush at my words.

"Thank you, Roxy," he tells me just as sincerely, tracing soothing circles on my back. The tone of his voice makes it sound like he's thanking me for a myriad of things that he couldn't begin to explain and I smile, absorbing this into my memory to keep forever; the glow, softness, and mesmerizing touch of his skin, the open, electric green eyes that only I get to see be selfish, lustful, teasing, considerate, kind, and devious, and a smile that completes everything and brightens any room. Once again I have to wonder why he chose _me _of all people to care for and smother in too much happiness.

I actually opt to ask him while I have to courage, but then a loud knock on the door wrenches me from my thoughts, panic seeping into every nerve in my body suddenly. Axel tenses while I think frantically _don't open the door, don't open the door, don't open the door. _My eyes stare wide at the said entrance, unable to stop my mind from playing a horrifying scene where the door opens over and over again.

"Hey, Roxas, have you seen Axel?" a familiar voice asks from outside the door. For a moment, the panic prevents me from saying anything, but when the question sinks in I respond shakily, "O-oh, uhm, no; sorry. He- uhh- might be getting something to…eat?" I lie quickly, silently missing Axel as soon as he shuffles to stand, helping me up with his hand until we're both firmly on our feet, shuffling around the room anxiously to gather our clothes.

"Oh, alright, you're probably right. I'll go find him outside the stadium; we're all going to go to a restaurant on the edge of town… you'd think he could wait for just five minutes… Eh, anyway, you're welcome to come with us of course. Once you're dressed, meet the team at the top of the stands; you'll see them," coach informs me, gratefully not touching the doorknob.

"Ah, alright, uhm, thanks," I reply, still a bit flustered even as I finally slip on my shirt, glancing at Axel to find him fully clothed as well. I wince at the feeling of our releases on my chest, knowing I won't be able to wear this shirt again after tonight.

"No problem," he says, ending the conversation. Moments later his footsteps are the only thing we hear, getting more and more quiet and distant as he walks away. When he's no longer in earshot I let out a sigh of relief, feeling shaken from the earlier thoughts of being caught. From behind me, Axel chuckles, wrapping his arms around my waist smirking.

"That was close," he comments, kissing my temple.

Scoffing, I reply, "You're telling me… how can you laugh at this?"

"It's 'cause you're so cute when you panic… and it's touching to know you worry about my reputation more than I do," he tells me, ruffling my hair.

I whap his hands away, offended by the childish treatment and embarrassed as my cheeks flush. "I have my own reputation to think about too, you know," I tell him stubbornly, stepping away from him.

"Uh-huh… whatever you say, Roxy," he replies, knowing full well I'm lying. "Well, I gotta go disappear now before Coach realizes I'm not out there," he finishes, kissing my cheek quickly before heading to the door, turning the knob. I don't want him to go, but I don't stop him, knowing he's right.

But before he leaves, he turns around, eyes boring into mine. Some of the moment that was lost when Coach knocked returns and he strides across the room again, kissing me passionately; of course I reciprocate on instinct, trying to convey my adoration without words. When we pull away from each other, I finally scowl and rush him out of the room, trying to hide my flushed cheeks. Right before I slam the door in his face, he waves and mouths 'I love yah!' before finally walking off. As he makes his appearance on the field, I hear some of the other teammates call out to him, "Hey batter-batter, where have you been?"

For a moment, I'm worried again, wondering what he'll say when I said he probably got something to eat as an excuse. But Axel surprises me, replying genially, "Oh I got a drink and came back, looking for Roxas."

"I think he's still changing-"

"Hey! Axel, my man, where have you been!" the coach's voice boomed; it becomes harder to hear so I actually leave the room (picking up my costume really quickly) and enter the still-dark hall to listen.

"I was –uh"

"He was checking up on Roxas after he got a drink," one of the teammates calls back. There's a pause and I hold my breath, hoping and praying that the coach just assumes he asked me about Axel at the wrong time. Anything to get away with all this.

"Oh, haha, I must've come at the wrong time then! I asked Roxas earlier where you were," he informs his redheaded batter, earning a fake laugh and apology from him. I slouch slightly in relief and take a couple steps forward, preparing to make my entrance. "Well, never mind, come on batter-batter, let's swing- by Tony's!" the coach finishes cheesily, referring to the restaurant we always go to.

That's when I emerge onto the field and jog over to the team over by the stands, receiving all the hello's and back thumps that make me stumble forward slightly; I silently curse Axel inwardly. If it weren't for him I wouldn't be so weak and tired. Eventually I end up next to the fire-crotch terrorist again, who thumps me on the back just a little softer than all the others, as he's trying to act natural (he never succeeds 100%; the guys just assume that we're really close friends when they notice anything _unusual_) but sensitive (or so I assume). Immediately after all the greetings I receive, the coach whistles for our attention and leads us to our bus, the team talking loudly as they jeer and taunt each other playfully, conveniently oblivious of the celebration they missed.

Axel places his arm casually around my shoulder, following the team with me at back of the line to the bus. At the irony of it all and the elated sense of victory within my own chest, I mutter just loud enough for Axel to hear, "Hey batter-batter, _swing._"

He laughs, muttering back, "Swung and scored; home run."

"A fantastically played game."

**A/N: Totally random idea that came to me when I was at a baseball game. Btw, I do not own KH or the teams, obviously… Anyway, for anyone who reads more than one of my stories… yes I know this isn't what I'm SUPPOSED to be writing considering I need to finish the next chapter of SK and Nonsense but… I'm getting there (please don't hurt me… D:) **

**Thank you for reading! Please review? What was your favorite part? What could I have written better? I wanna know what you think… :) Not only that, reviews make my day –heart-**

**~Hannahble**


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